


I'm Not A Liar (Because You're Beautiful)

by KillJoy998



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Beast is beautiful, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Peter knows that, beastsilver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 08:35:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7677490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KillJoy998/pseuds/KillJoy998
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter has stolen Hank's needles and has started to put up mirrors-- Hank despises it, but not more than he despises Beast. </p><p>((The cliched Hank hates how Beast looks, Peter loves him all the same))</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Not A Liar (Because You're Beautiful)

**Author's Note:**

> Beastsilver needs some love, and I've been shipping it since DOFP, so I thought I might as well write this.

“You know, Hank, I love how you look.”

 

Beast glared at himself in the mirror— _the mirror that wasn’t supposed to be there_.

 

Hank had tried, okay? Hank had tried so hard, over these years, to accept the way Beast looked even though he tried his damn hardest to keep the burden from coming to the surface. He still took his injection. He still tried his hardest to never let Beast come out unless it was damn _necessary_. But around Peter... It was becoming a harder feat for himself. And it shouldn’t be.

 

Hank could consider himself and Peter a thing. After the whole Apocalypse...ordeal... They had gotten close. Peter always ended up in his lab to rest due to his broken leg, and Hank had always been happy to help. He always believed that they would only be colleagues, be partners in the X-Men regime, nothing else. But when Peter’s leg got better... They didn’t stop hanging out like Hank first assumed they would. They went out some days, when Peter got truly restless in the mansion, and that had started off simple, like getting coffee or going grocery shopping to stock up the kitchen in the mansion. But that had slowly grown; it started in the mansion first, before they ever grew the courage to be affectionate out there, outside of their homely grounds.

 

They got to know each other, they played silly games when Hank was too tired to keep on insisting he had important work to do, and eventually Peter hung out more in Hank’s bedroom—now, it was more often than not. Peter barely saw the walls of his own room anymore. He remembered the first time Peter called their ‘outings’ a date. They had been hungry on one of their walks, and had decided to go to a restaurant, where the waiter treated them as a couple, and Peter had that shine in his eyes and the little smirk in the corner of his mouth and joked about them dating and sharing a life neither of them could have imagined. It was a joke. He knew it was a joke. At the time, at least. It’s been three months after their first date, and nothing has changed, except the fact that whenever they do go out, they definitely call them dates. And so do the rest of their friends.

 

He couldn’t tell if they were ‘boyfriends’, because they definitely weren’t lovers—despite Peter spending every night in his bed, they never _did_ anything. Except, you know, cuddle from time to time. Because grown men can cuddle. It really depended on Peter on how they labelled themselves. He didn’t want to claim them as anything just in case Peter became uncomfortable about it. Peter got bored easily. With everything. Hank hoped that Peter wouldn’t get bored of him.

 

But this, right here, was his problem. Peter had begun a stupid game of hiding all of his resources and taking his injections away from him so whenever Beast wanted to play, he couldn’t put him away again. He didn’t know where the damn rascal hid the only cure he’s got, he just knew that now he was stuck as Beast until he decided to calm his body down.

 

And to top it all off... Peter brought in a _mirror_. In his bedroom—their bedroom, technically, but still. He’s never had a mirror in his bedroom. Because of _this_. He wasn’t exactly the best to look at even when he was average Hank, but when he has Beast staring straight back at him... He felt his skin crawl.

 

Peter was stood behind him, resting on the doorframe, having the nerve to tell him that he loved how he looked.

 

“You know, Peter, Charles was right.”

 

Hank couldn’t see, but Peter had raised an eyebrow, and had taken a cautious step into the bedroom.

 

“About...?”

 

“About you being a pain in the ass.”

 

It stung. Hank’s words stung. Not to Peter—was Peter fazed by anything?—but to Hank. Beast was still glaring at himself, stuck at what to do. He wanted to punch the glass to shatter it, just so he didn’t have to accidentally catch himself in the mirror ever again.

 

“I get that a lot,” Peter acknowledged, hanging his head a little.

 

Hank doubted the action was in shame. Peter didn’t know shame.

 

“Yeah,” Hank sighed, eying himself once more before turning, facing the silverheaded quickster, “Yeah, I know you do.”

 

“I’m a lot of things, Hank,” Peter admitted, and he raised his head so he was staring straight back at Hank, at Beast, “But I’m not a liar.”

 

Hank didn’t know what to say, so he looked away and crossed his arms.

 

“But you don’t believe that, do you?” Peter frowned.

 

Peter didn’t like that Hank didn’t believe him. Hank swallowed thickly, and he turned back around, to watch himself glower in the mirror.

 

“I didn’t think so,” Peter finished.

 

He zoomed forward in less than a second, his arms coming around to hug Hank’s waist. Beast growled involuntarily—merely because the speed still shocked him and he wasn’t ready for contact.

 

“Let go, Peter,” Hank snapped, struggling lightly, because Beast could rip Peter in half without breaking a sweat, but Hank would never hurt Peter.

 

“You know what,” Peter sighed softly, and for once in his life he did as he was told, and let go, “I’ll go get you your shit. So you can... Y’know, turn back.”

 

Before Hank had even turned around, Peter had left. The younger man’s absence sent a lonely shiver down Hank’s spine from the cold gust of wind Peter had left behind on his run. Hank turned back to the mirror and sighed. He decided not to break it. He would just take it down. So that’s what he ended up doing.

 

He took the mirror off the wall and carried it to the corridor. He placed it down on the floor and rested it against the wall, hoping that maybe somebody would come down this corridor and collect it. The hope didn’t last long though; he decided he didn’t care, so he left the door open before dragging himself back inside of his room. He could say that he’s known Peter for a little while now, and yet the man was still so unpredictable.

 

“I’m back,” a quiet voice announced from behind Hank, and Beast sighed.

 

Peter wasn’t even making big entrances. What had he done?

 

Hank didn’t have to turn around because a needle had been thrown obviously onto his bed, and he turned his head to face it. Finally. He no longer had to carry around this furry burden anymore. He reached for it, but Peter’s words stopped him.

 

“I love you. And I love how you look. I love Hank. I love Beast. I don’t give a shit if you’re smooth or furry, man. You know, we’ve been on dates, I’ve slept in your bed, we’ve devoted a lot of time together... And yet we still haven’t even kissed. Why?”

 

“What... What do you mean?”

 

“Why haven’t we kissed?”

 

And then Peter was _there_ , right in front of Beast’s face, and Hank needed to back up before anything drastic happened. Though... Peter was right.

 

They hadn’t kissed. And Hank wanted to. He really, really wanted to kiss Peter, but... Not like this.

 

“Well, I... I-I can’t kiss you right now...”

 

“Why not?”

 

Peter didn’t look angry, he didn’t even look disappointed; he looked _exasperated_. Peter almost looked sad. Like he had been waiting too long.

 

“W-Well... I—“

 

“Please, Hank—“

 

“I can’t! Not like this! You deserve better, you don’t want _Beast_ kissing you, I have to... I have to at least change to even make this a little bit right—“

 

“No!” Peter snapped abruptly, and then he was right in Beast’s space, against a wall, so Hank couldn’t even move out of the way until he was trapped. “I’ve been waiting this for ten years—“

 

“ _Ten years_?!”

 

“Yes! Ten damn fucking years! Because, _McCoy_ , I’ve wanted to kiss you since _you_ came to _my_ room to break into the Pentagon, because _you_ called _me_ fascinating, because you were admittedly the hottest thing I’d ever seen in my mom’s fucking basement, and I’ve wanted to kiss you since I was seventeen!”

 

Hank blinked from the outburst, shocked, and a little bit broken. Even though he hadn’t spoken a word his chest was still heaving from breathing so hard just as much as Peter’s was, and he felt like the world around them had faded into nothing.

 

Silence.

 

Hank’s breathing, Peter’s breathing, the only sounds there were to fill the open space around them, and Hank felt like he had just been freshly slapped to the face.

 

Ten years. He’s been making Peter wait ten years and he never even noticed.

 

“I...”

 

“Shut up,” Peter pleaded, “Please?”

 

“Peter...”

 

Peter’s eyes widened, as if it only just came to him exactly what he had done, exactly what he had said, so he backed down and held back tears. “That... That was a lot I just spilled so... So, I’m sorry, okay? I’m... I’m sorry, I just... Look, I’ll just... I’ll go, alright? It’s cool.”

 

Something animalistic surged through Hank as Peter began to pull away, because in a second he had growled and turned them around to slam Peter into the wall, knocking the oxygen out of the younger man’s lungs.

 

“Where do you want your kiss?”

 

“W-What? Dude, what the fuck—“

 

“I’m asking you, Maximoff, where do you want to be kissed?”

 

“I—Right here.”

 

“Right here?”

 

“Yeah... Yeah, Hank, right here.”

 

Hank didn’t hesitate.

 

And it was the best damn kiss Peter has ever had.

 

Seventeen year old Peter had a lot to look forward to, because after they had finished the breath-taking kiss against the wall, the needle was tossed away to make room for them to safely—albeit unsafely—take each other on the bed. Hank secretly started to hope that no one came down the corridor to get the mirror anymore—because if they did, he’d feel pretty sorry for them.


End file.
